Random OneShots
by Mrs. Vega
Summary: Random one-shots that won't be going anywhere, including the previous one-shots I've written.  You're welcome to use any to create longer stories.  Individual ratings at the start of each one.  Message me with any ideas you'd like to see.
1. A Different Beginning

**A Different Beginning**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: A very different beginning to the Harry Potter story.**

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><p>The Potters and the Longbottoms sat at the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix in shock. Albus Dumbledore had just told them of a new prophecy.<p>

"Now, this prophecy may relate to either young Harry or young Neville. You have all managed to "thrice defy" Voldemort; both children were born "as the seventh month dies", and I strongly suggest that you all go into hiding. Filius has suggested the Fidelus Charm and has offered to personally cast it for you."

"Albus, do you truly believe the situation is so dire."

"I do, Frank. If it weren't for the fact that your families are such beacons of hope for the Light, especially you, Lily, being muggleborn, I would suggest that you leave the country. However, I worry that if you do so, the resistance will crumble."

"Surely we aren't so important…"

"I'm sorry to contradict you, dear Lily, but you are."

"Well, if you're sure this is the way to go, we had best start making arrangements."

"Thank you, Alice." The Longbottoms and the Potters rose to go, but Albus stopped them.

"Lily, James, I'd like to speak with you, if I may."

"Of course, Albus," said James. "Frank, Alice, best of luck."

"And to you, of course." Once the Longbottoms had left the office, Dumbledore got right to the point.

"I believe Lord Voldemort is more likely to go after Harry." Lily gasped. "There are some similarities between them. Harry's appearance and blood status are very similar to Voldemort's own. The fact that Harry was born at 11:59 PM on July 31st is also compelling. He was, quite literally, born as the seventh month died."

"And, as such, you feel we are in more danger?"

"Harry is certainly in more danger. I believe Voldemort will only kill you for defending your son. Should you surrender Harry, which, of course, you would never do, Voldemort would, almost assuredly leave you in peace. However, as that is not a factor, let me make a suggestion."

"Of course."

"I would like to offer myself as your secret keeper."

"But Albus, what about the danger?"

"As I already have a giant target on my back for my effort against Voldemort, I doubt the increase in danger would greatly affect me."

"Thank you, Albus, that will make me feel much safer."

"My pleasure, Lily." The Potter's left feeling sure that they would make it through the war with their family intact."

*Halloween 1 year later*

"James, I would really rather we go somewhere else. I have an ominous feeling about tonight."

"Lily, where would we go? We've been over this. Albus warned us that we have a traitor in our midst."

"But we're trapped here like sitting ducks. The floo has been disconnected, there are anti-apparition wards, we have no way to escape.

"Lily, we'll be fine."

"We…we could visit my sister."

"Lily, do you forget that she actually kicked us out of her home last time we visited?"

" Well, that's true, but maybe if we explained the situation. She is my sister, after all."

"Lily, we'll be fine. Don't forget that Albus is our secret keeper."

"I suppose you're right." As Lily got up to check on Harry, their intruder alarm went off. Oddly enough, it wasn't the alarm indicating a breach of the wards; it was the alarm indicating someone with evil intentions had entered the garden gate. James peeked out the window and gasped.

"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and go! I'll hold him off!" Lily ran up the stairs to retrieve Harry. She'd known this was going to be a bad night. She hoped James had some sort of plan. She was so terrified of something happening to Harry that she couldn't think straight. Suddenly, Albus appeared in a flash of light, and Fawkes landed on his shoulder. He looked windswept and horrified.

"Lily, it was Peter! Peter has betrayed us. He's with Voldemort, and led him straight here."

"Peter? How is that possible? He's our friend."

"No, Lily, not anymore."

"Albus, we're trapped. James is downstairs; Voldemort was coming in the gate. I have to save Harry!" Lily was openly weeping at this point. There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she contemplated the fate of her husband and son. "Please, Albus, take him with you! Save my Harry. You can go with Fawkes!" A bright flash of green emanated from downstairs. "Oh Merlin! JAMES! You BASTARD!" Lily grabbed her wand and raced to the door. Before she exited the room she turned to Dumbledore. "Please, take him and go! Save him. It's my last request. Let him know how much I loved him!" With tears streaming down her face, Lily raced downstairs to face the man who had murdered her husband.

When she saw James' still form on the living room floor, She raced to him and screamed. When she looked up, her eyes were that of a madwoman. She raised her wand without even thinking. Before she'd even had a chance to utter a curse, the flash of green hit her, too. Lily was dead before she hit the floor. Voldemort surveyed the lifeless bodies piteously, then looked at the ceiling. He had a job to finish.

*Change POV*

Albus stared down at young Harry. He held him close until Lily was out the door. Then he held the boy away from his body distastefully.

"You have been nothing but trouble to me, Mr. Potter. You will make a wonderful gift to my dear Tom." He looked up as he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Albus?"

"In here, Tom." Lord Voldemort followed his lover's voice into a small bedroom.

"She left him with you?"

"I told you that they trusted me completely. Our followers are dealing with the Longbottoms?"

"Of course. We will be completely unopposed once this brat is dead."

"I have always wanted a son, and we need an heir."

"Not him. We can find another. Besides, I would like a girl."

"One of each, perhaps, Tom?"

"We shall see, dear. Now, let's finish him and solidify our takeover." The two most powerful wizards in the world aimed their wands at Harry Potter, and, without his mother's sacrifice, he was annihilated. Dumbledore enveloped Tom in a hug and Apparated them back to Riddle Manor, eager to complete their takeover of the wizarding world.


	2. The True Start of the War

**The True Start of the War**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: How the war between "Light" and "Dark" actually started.**

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><p><em>From the Desk of Tom Marvolo Riddle<em>

_1 June 1947_

_My Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_I have heard that Professor Merrythought has declared his desire to retire at the end of this school year. I do not feel it is too large a leap of the imagination to assume that this leaves Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I would ask that, as such, you add my name to the list of candidates you have for consideration. I feel I have excellent qualifications despite my age. As you are no doubt aware, I was Head Boy, I received an O on my Defense O.W.L., and an O+ on my Defense N.E.W.T. I have also started a Defense Mastery. I have enclosed my marks, which are top of my class. I eagerly await a return owl with your response to my application._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_T.M. Riddle_

Albus Dumbledore finished reading the letter he had read so many times he had nearly memorized it. It was more than he had ever hoped for. Finally, a chance to do young Tom a favor. It was a chance to show Tom just how useful he could be. Naturally, he had responded immediately, inviting him to an interview on June 8th at 3:00 PM.

Now here he was, eagerly awaiting Tom's arrival. He knew the Board of Governors would oppose the appointment of one so young, but he did have excellent qualifications. Truth be told, there was only one other candidate for the post anyway. But Tom needn't know that. He would hardly need a favor if he knew the odds were so good for him. A knock at the door pulled Dumbledore from his thoughts. He hastily vanished the letter.

"Come in." The door swung open revealing the immensely appealing form of Tom Riddle. His straight, black hair hung to his collar. His eyes were a beautiful hazel. The cut of his cloak outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Dumbledore could hardly contain himself. "Mr. Riddle, a pleasure to see you again."

"And you, Sir. Thank you for granting me an interview."

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Riddle. However, I must inform you that with the number of _more experienced_ candidates, there may be difficulty getting the Board of Governors to approve your appointment."

"I would be the better investment, Sir. Any older candidates would retire long before me, and are more likely to be stuck in their ways. A lack of experience means a lack of habits. I'm a blank slate, waiting to be filled with Hogwarts' procedures." Dumbledore smiled at the image that came to mind.

"That you are, I'm sure. However, the Board of Governors may not see it that way. I must say, I have faith in your abilities, and perhaps we can find a way to make this work." Tome was a little unnerved by the look Dumbledore was giving him, but he really wanted to teach.

"I'm not sure I follow you, Sir."

"Mr. Riddle, allow me to put it this way. Everyone wants something. The Board of Governors wants a competent instructor, you want to teach at Hogwarts, and I want you." Tom was so shocked by this declaration that he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind."

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I'm not gay." Dumbledore merely laughed.

"Mr. Riddle, you are so delightfully naïve. I've invented a simple charm that will take care of that little obstacle." Tom was bothered by just how easily Dumbledore brushed aside his concerns.

"But I'm quite happy being attracted to females. Besides, you're _old_, and, frankly, the thought is _disgusting_ to me!" Dumbledore leaned back as though he had been struck. How _dare_ anyone refuse him? With venom in his tone, he issued a warning.

"Mr. Riddle, be aware that without my backing, you have no hope of attaining this position." Tom thought longingly of the castle he had thought of as home, and all of the treasures it held. However, he could not do what was being asked of him. The thought was repugnant. He shook his head and stood.

"You ask far too much, old man. I cannot, will not, agree to your terms." As Tom turned and left the office, Dumbledore cast a silent spell on him. Dumbledore was determined that if he couldn't have Tom, no one could. He had invented this spell specifically for this interview, as he knew just how stubborn Tom could be. Indeed, he had had a premonition that the meeting would end in this way, though he had hoped otherwise. His spell was slow-acting, so, thankfully, Tom would not realize what had happened until the next morning.

The next morning, Tom awoke to screams coming from the witch next to him. Groaning, he opened his eyes and faced her. Her look of abject terror confused him.

"Whatever is wrong?"

"Who are you? What have you done to my Tom? Merlin, where is my wand?" Becoming alarmed, Tom hastily got out of bed. In doing so, he passed a mirror and saw what the problem was. His first thought was that he was wearing a mask, but a few pokes to his cheek proved that theory was wrong. Grabbing his wand, he tried every spell he could think of to return his original appearance. Unbeknownst to him, Dumbledore's spell was permanent. There was no going back.

After a few months, Tom gave up hope of restoring his appearance. He gazed angrily into the mirror. He, who had once looked so great, now despised his reflection. His visage was hideous. Bright red eyes with slits for pupils, two diagonal slits for nostrils with absolute no protrusion formed his nose, he had no hair, and thin, almost non-existent lips. He was hideous, and he knew who to blame.

"You will pay, old man."

*33 years later*

Albus Dumbledore shook hands with Sybil Trelawny. He had just hired her to teach Divination. She had (unknowingly) just provided him with the means to destroy the only person who had ever dared refuse him. He need only wait to see who this "Chosen One" would be.

Over the years, Dumbledore had easily led the wizarding world to believe that Tom Riddle, now known as Lord Voldemort, was the most evil wizard to ever live. Tom himself certainly had made it easier by attacking Dumbledore and his closest followers at every opportunity.

A few more years, a few more manipulations, and he who had caused his greatest humiliation would be gone forever.


	3. Petunia Gets Rejected

**Petunia Get's Rejected**

**Rating: K+**

**Summary: When Petunia learns of Lily's acceptance to Hogwarts, she writes to Dumbledore and gets rejected.**

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><p>While the rest of the family celebrated Lily's news downstairs, Petunia ran up to her room. That lady, Professor McGonagall, had explained to the family how to get to Diagon Alley, and how to send a return owl accepting Lily's place at Hogwarts. Petunia planned to send her own owl surreptitiously while her parents were busy sending an acceptance owl. In order to do that, however, she needed a letter ready by this afternoon.<p>

Petunia quickly shut herself in her room and pulled some of her best stationery out of her desk. She wanted to make a good impression. She wondered if her age would be a problem. She was two years older than Lily. Shrugging, she picked up her favorite purple pen and began her letter.

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,

I doubt you currently know of my existence. My name is Petunia Evans, sister to Lily Evans, who just received an invite to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My family understandably was quite surprised by her letter, as there has never before been a witch in the family.

I, however, have been aware of her abilities for some time, and have tried to get her to exercise caution when displaying them. Imagine my surprised when I found out that there is a school for witchcraft! Seeing as magic is obviously a learned talent, I would greatly appreciate a chance to learn magic as well. Lily seems to have a head start on me, but perhaps that means she is more powerful.

I realize that my age may cause some problems, being two years older, but I would have no problem starting in the beginning classes with my sister. In fact, I think that would be best, as we have always been best friends. I am certain my parents would be ecstatic to learn that I would be joining my sister at Hogwarts.

I thank you for considering my request, and look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Petunia Evans

Petunia reread her letter and smiled. It was the right tone. She didn't want to sound as desperate as she actually was. She glanced at the clock and realized it had taken her a full hour to write the letter. She folded it and addressed it to _Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ before putting it in her purse and heading downstairs.

"Tuney, there you are! Mum and Dad were about to go up and see if you were ok."

Petunia managed to smile. "I'm fine, I just decided to take a nap since today sounds like it's going to be busy, and _someone_ woke me up early today."

Lily smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Tuney."

Petunia waved off her sister's apology. "Don't worry about it. Do you think I could borrow some of your books when we get back? I'm curious about the world you're joining."

Lily smiled. She had been worried that this difference would seriously affect their relationship. "Of course, Tuney."

They all left for Diagon Alley a few minutes later. Petunia was as amazed as the rest of the family by what it contained. When they all entered the Owl Post Office, she managed to post her letter while her parents thought she was exploring the store.

Fairly certain of a favorable response, Petunia happily followed her sister around, daydreaming of returning to buy all of the supplies for herself.

***One Week Later***

Petunia was awoken by an owl tapping on her window. A quick look at the clock revealed that it was still very early. She quelled a squeal of excitement as she ran to the window to let the bird in. The owl stuck out its leg to let her take the note, then hooted before flying out the open window.

Petunia eyed the letter happily. It was addressed to _Miss Petunia Evans_ in an elaborate, loopy script. Her hands shook with giddiness as she tore open the thick parchment envelope. She pulled out the letter and sat on her bed to read.

Dear Miss Evans,

I cannot tell you how your enthusiasm to study magic has touched me. It is not often that the non-magical population is so willing to embrace the magical community. I thank you for that acceptance, and for the acceptance I am sure you have shown your sister.

Unfortunately, I must disabuse you of your belief that magic is a learned talent. While it is true that a magical child must go to school to learn how to control their magical skills, there is no way to give a non magical person a magical core. A magical core is what gives someone the ability to perform magic, and you must be born with one.

Therefore, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you, despite how elated I am sure your family would be to have you accepted, that I cannot offer you admission to Hogwarts, which is, and always will be, a school for magical children. An education at Hogwarts would not benefit a non magical person, as we do not offer courses which will teach non magical skills. You would not be prepared for a career were you to attend Hogwarts, nor would you be prepared to live in the non magical world, which, unless you someday marry a wizard, you would do.

I apologize for any hurt this may cause you, and hope that you will bear the magical world no ill will for not being born into it. I hope, especially, that you will not blame your sister for the accident of birth which gave her a magical core, but did not provide you with one.

With Regrets,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Order of Merlin, First Class

Supreme Mugwump

Chief Warlock

Petunia read the letter once, twice, three times, all in a state of shock. Whatever she had been expecting as a reply, this was not it. She could not believe she had been rejected.

Had she been older, Petunia might have been able to accept that Dumbledore was truly affected by what he had needed to write. She might have been able to accept that it was no one's fault. However, at thirteen, she read that she was rejected, and that it was an accident that gave Lily magic.

"She's a freak!" Petunia quickly gave herself over the anger and jealousy, both emotions much easier to stomach that disappointment and sadness. She needed someone to blame and her sister was the perfect person. As she thought it over some more, she realized that perhaps if that Snape boy had left them alone, Lily would never have been accepted, and she would never have been rejected.

"They're both freaks!" she hissed. "I didn't really want to go to that freak school anyway. I just wanted to watch over Lily because she's my little sister. Well, she'll have to protect herself." Petunia crumpled up the letter and threw it toward her wastebasket. It bounced off of the rim and rolled under her desk, where it lay forgotten.


	4. Hermione's Letter

**Hermione's Letter**

**Rating: K**

**Summary: Hermione, fearful of what her parents will think, sends them a letter immediately after her teeth are fixed in fourth year.**

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><p>Hermione sat at a table in the library with her quill suspended over her parchment. She knew she needed to let her parents know what had happened earlier that day, but she worried about what they would say. After all, they had wanted her to get braces to fix her teeth, despite how many times she had pointed out that said teeth could be fixed in minutes with magic.<p>

A smile lit her face as she considered that never again would she be called anything like Bucky Beaver, or Chipmunk. That smile dropped when she once again considered her parents' reactions. They were understandably wary of where things could lead if she started fixing problems with magic. Hermione, however, didn't see a reason to "fix" herself, she merely wanted to make her teeth normal.

Realizing that her mind had been wandering, she turned back to the still blank parchment in front of her and began writing.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm doing splendid, thanks for your last letter. I'll ask the school owl to stick around again so you can reply if you want. If you aren't able to reply right away, just let it know. You could probably tell it when you'd be ready. I think they're smart enough to come back when you need them. I can't wait for hols so I can see you again.

I suppose you're probably wondering why I'm writing again so soon. I had a bit of an incident today. Don't worry, it was nothing major, and the slight issues have already been taken care of. Now that you've calmed down, let me tell you the story.

Us Gryffs and the snakes were all waiting for Potions when that ferret, Malfoy, decided to start being a prat, as usual. He was doing everything he could to antagonize Harry. For a while Harry managed to hold out, but eventually, it all got to him and he whipped out his wand to curse Malfoy. For once, Malfoy was unusually quick on the uptake and cursed Harry right back. Unfortunately for the rest of us, they had rather bad aim in their anger. Harry's spell hit one of Malfoy's goons, and Malfoy's spell hit me.

It was nothing terribly painful or dangerous, but it caused my front teeth to start growing at an alarming rate. By the time I reached the hospital wing to have Madam Pomfrey sort me out, they were nearly to my waist. Thankfully, magic can fix most anything. Madam Pomfrey cast a spell to shrink my teeth back to normal.

Now, mummy, daddy, please don't be angry with me, but When she had finished shrinking my teeth, they were a normal size, and I don't mean normal for me. I finally have normal front teeth. They look so good that I couldn't bring myself to tell her that they were smaller than they used to be. I know you didn't want me to use magic to fix them, and I suppose technically, _I_ didn't use magic. Please don't be angry with me. They look great!

Oh, dear, there's the bell, I must run to send this off before class.

Much Love,

Hermione

***A few days later***

"Dan, come here, darling. Hermione's sent us another owl."

"So soon? I love hearing from her, but usually we have to wait a few weeks."

"Who am I to question?" Emma Granger freed the owl from its burden and offered it some water and a couple of owl treats. Hermione had insisted on buying a box when they were last in Diagon Alley, and they had to admit that the owls seemed much happier.

As she opened the letter, Dan came closer to read over her shoulder. As they finished reading the first paragraph, Emma looked up at her husband. "Shall we ask it to stay?"

"Might as well, we'll most likely be writing back, and if not, it'll get a nice rest."

Emma nodded and turned to the owl. "May I pet you?" The owl hooted in response and lowered its head, offering her its neck. Emma pet the owl for a few moments before speaking again. "Would you please stay for the day? I'm not sure that we'll need to write back, but even if we don't, I'm sure you'd like the rest, and we'll be having lunch soon." The gazed at her for a moment before hooting again. Taking that as a yes, Emma smiled. "Thank you."

Dan and Emma went back to reading the letter. They were appalled by what had happened, and a little hurt that Hermione hadn't corrected the nurse. At the same time, however, they knew this would happen eventually.

"At least the nurse took care of it instead of Hermione. I'm sure there will be no lasting effects," said Dan.

"You're right, dear. And we never would have been able to correct her teeth entirely. I know how much she used to be teased. Perhaps it's for the best. Maybe now she'll feel more confident."

Dan nodded. "I suppose we should let her know we aren't upset."


	5. Bellatrix's Hatred

**Bellatrix's Hatred**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: How was it that Bellatrix developed such an intense hatred of her cousin Sirius? **_[I took a bit of liberty with ages here. I know it is generally accepted that Bella is several years older than Sirius. However, as we aren't truly told their ages in canon, I made them the same age.]_

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><p>Bellatrix Black watched her cousin from across the classroom. This was about the only reason she was thankful that Gryffindor and Slytherin had classes together. He was so handsome. She intended to ask her mother if they could start a betrothal contract. He would be nearly the perfect husband in her parents' eyes. He was a pureblood, and even better, he was of their own family. He was a powerful wizard, and his line of the family was known to be virile. The only problem was that he supported the light, and his mother had all but cast him out.<p>

Bellatrix knew that if they were married, she could steer Sirius down the correct path. After all, they had been close friends when they were younger. Aunt Walburga would be delighted to have her favorite older son back within the family, and rest of the Black family would love delivering a blow to the light side. She resolved to write to her parents that very day.

As soon as Professor Slughorn let the class go, Bellatrix raced to her dormitory to start her letter. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then started writing.

Dearest Mother,

I have had a brilliant idea to help our family and deliver a blow to the idiot Headmaster and the so-called 'Light Side' in the processes. I would like to form a betrothal contract between Cousin Sirius and myself.

Now, before you think I have taken leave of my senses, please consider my reasoning. We were the best of friends before we started Hogwarts and he fell in with the Gryffindors. He is handsome, and his line of the Black family is known to be quite virile, at least when it comes to producing sons. Also, as Sirius will be head of the Black family, I would be in a position to control the family finances. I am certain that once we are married, I would be more than able to bend him to my will. After all, you have always told me that men are easily led.

Of course, the most important point is that he comes from what is currently the most pure family known to Wizarding Britain. As I do as well, our children are sure to be the most powerful of the next generation of witches and wizards.

Do consider my reasoning, Mother, and speak to Father about this. I am certain it would serve us well in the future, and we could have a marvelous engagement party during our Christmas holidays. Two weeks is enough time to plan, is it not?

Your Dutiful Daughter,

Bellatrix

Bellatrix posted the letter as soon as she was done, then tried to push it from her mind for the time being.

***Three Days Later***

Druella read her daughter's letter, first with consternation, then with glee. She knew Bellatrix would be useful to the family. She was not a classic beauty like her sister Narcissa, nor was she top of her class like her sister Andromeda, but she was insightful, and always came up with the best ideas.

"Cygnus, darling, do come her for a moment."

Cygnus wandered into the room, rather upset at having been interrupted. "What now, woman?"

Druella rolled her eyes. Like most marriages, theirs had been arranged. While they usually managed a display of respect and affection around the children, their relationship had many cracks in it. However, like many other witches, she played her part nearly to perfection.

"Bella has written to us, dearest, with the most wonderful idea."

Cygnus perked up at that information, as Bella had always been his favorite. "Really, now. What does she say?"

"She wishes us to start negotiations for a betrothal between herself and Cousin Sirius."

As she knew he would, Cygnus flew forward and tore the letter out of her hands. "Has she gone mad!" He quickly skimmed the letter, and she watched as his anger turned to scheming interest. "Always knew that girl was brilliant. Well, I'll speak with Walburga and Orion tomorrow."

***Two Weeks Later***

Bellatrix was starting to get anxious, as she had yet to receive a reply from her parents. Her sisters noticed the change, and often asked her what was wrong. She waved off each inquiry.

She sat eating her breakfast wondering if today would be the day. As she had for the past two weeks, she carefully searched the owls as the delivered the morning mail, hoping to see Aramis, her beautiful barn owl. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted him, then began pounding as he landed in front of her. Did he carry the answer to her dreams?

It was only the years of etiquette lessons her mother had put her through that kept her from tearing open the letter right there at the table. She carefully put the letter in her bag, then offered Aramis some bacon. As soon as the first students started leaving the hall, she made her excuses to read her letter before class.

As soon as she was on her bed, she cast some privacy spells to keep from being disturbed. This would also allow her to let off some steam, whatever the answer was. She was still somewhat concerned her parents would refuse the idea. She certainly was not prepared for what she read.

My Dearest Daughter,

I would like to commend you on the excellent idea you had. I must admit, that at first I was stunned, but as I considered your reasoning, I saw the brilliance of your plan. Your father was easily brought 'round as well.

He spoke with your Aunt Walburga and Uncle Cygnus on Tuesday last, and they were very receptive to the idea. They quickly set about drawing up the plans, and, by Thursday last, had reached an agreement that suited us all.

The only remaining item was to inform Sirius. This, however, did not go as planned. Your Aunt Walburga sent him a letter informing him of his duty and their expectations. I believe his reply was rather foul, and he intimated that he would never again return home.

To soothe your fears, no one blames you, of course. We did have rather high hopes for your brilliant plan, but, alas, it was not to be. Sirius has been cast from the family and removed from the tapestry. But, never fear, as your father and I have some of our own ideas for betrothals, and I can assure you that these potential suitors will not need to be 'fixed' which will, of course, be a relief to you.

Your loving,

Mother

As Bellatrix read through her mother's letter, her fury built. How dare that mongrel refuse her! Any tender feelings she may have held for him were instantly destroyed in her growing rage and resentment. She wanted revenge. She didn't know how, or when, but she would have it, and so she swore.

"I swear to Merlin that by my magic I will have my revenge on Sirius Black!"


	6. Ragnock at Home

**Ragnock at Home**

**Rating: K**

**Summary: After Ragnock gets awarded his raise and bonus (in Shadows of a Slytherin ch 4) he comes home to his mate to tell her the good news.**

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><p>Goblin Ragnock touched the portkey that was hanging around his neck to go home. It had been a long day at Gringotts, although a very profitable one. He was excited to tell his mate about their growing hoard. He once again blessed the Great Overlord for having given him such a profitable account.<p>

He appeared before the door to his house and let himself in. He found his mate, Karnoot, in the kitchen, preparing their evening meal. "Pleasant day, Karnoot. Has your day proved profitable?"

His mate turned and offered him the goblin equivalent of a smile. "Pleasant day, Ragnock. My day has proven profitable, and yours?"

"It has indeed. I will acquaint you with the details over our evening meal." Ragnock entered his sleeping chamber to change out of his Gringotts uniform before joining his mate at the table.

"I prepared your favorite, Ragnock. It is jellied hippogriff feet on butterfly toast with beetles and worms."

"You treat me well, Karnoot." Karnoot smiled at the praise, before serving herself and sitting down to eat. They ate quickly and in silence as custom dictated. When they were finished, the plates were washed and they sat in the resting chamber.

"Ragnock, you meant to tell me of your day."

"Indeed, Karnoot. I believe the time has come to have our heirs."

"But Ragnock, you refused to have an heir before our hoard reached two thousand Galleons, we have not yet reached eighteen hundred Galleons."

Ragnock let out a laugh. "But we have, oh mate of mine. Today has proved most profitable. I was awarded a bonus of one thousand Galleons, and received a three hundred Galleon a year pay raise!"

"Ragnock! How is this possible!"

"Lord Potter, is thankful of my management of his account. He wished to thank me."

Karnoot's eyes filled with tears, a very rare occurrence for a Goblin. However, female Goblins were very sentimental about children. Karnoot had been wanting one for several years. "Ragnock, this is truly a profitable day! We shall increase our status with our hoard and with our heir. Whatever you do, do not lose this account!"

"I will not, Karnoot, do not worry."


	7. Snape's Torment

**Snape's Torment**

**Summary: ****Why, exactly, does Snape treat Harry so poorly? Can a man so brave and so caring really hold a childhood grudge for so long, or is there another reason entirely?**

* * *

><p>Severus Snape watched as the first year students entered the hall behind Minerva. He was searching for one student in particular. This would be his one chance to make things up to Lily, the only chance he would ever have. He watched as they all lined up, but he couldn't pick out the boy. He was mildly annoyed with his position at the end of the staff table. Perhaps if he had been more affable he wouldn't be consigned to the end and he would actually be able to see.<p>

The Sorting Ceremony dragged on and on, until finally, "Potter, Harry!" He tried to get a good look at the boy, but Minerva's form blocked his view. He was able to get the impression of someone rather small for eleven before the boy sat on the stool and the hat was placed on his head.

_Merlin, please make him a Slytherin. If he is a Slytherin, I can protect him. Lily should have been a Slytherin, then we could have been together without the house rivalry. Please, make him a Slytherin._

"Gryffindor!" Severus groaned. How could things possibly get any worse? The students would question if he was overly nice to a Gryffindor. He was, after all, the Head of Slytherin House. He watched Harry's back as he walked to Gryffindor table. It was obvious the boy was stick thin, and he cursed Petunia for the harshness she had obviously dealt her sister's son. If only he could get a good look at the boy.

Harry sat down and spoke to the pompous prefect Percy Weasley. Severus could see that Harry had inherited James' messy black hair. He fiercely hoped that Harry would look exactly like James. James may have been his tormentor at Hogwarts, but at least in the end he had been no more than another student. Lily, however, was the single best thing to ever happen to him, and he had betrayed her, multiple times. He knew Lily had never forgiven him.

It was as the newest Weasley to attend Hogwarts was announced that Harry finally turned around and he got a good look at him. _Dear Merlin, why?_He was looking straight into Lily's eyes. The exact shape, the exact color. The last time Severus had looked into those eyes they were full of hate. He deserved to see them full of hate. He didn't deserve to see those eyes happy.

Severus knew then that he would make Harry's life a living hell, just so he could see that hate in his – Lily's – eyes. _Forgive me, Lily, I can't make things up to you, I don't deserve to see those eyes smiling at me._ He would just have to face the knowledge that Lily was destined to hate him forever more.


	8. Ginny's Life Before Hogwarts

**Ginny's Life Before Hogwarts**

**Summary: What Ginny's life might have been like before Hogwarts. **

August 11, 1981

"Congratulations, Mrs. Weasley, it's a girl!"

"Arthur!" gasped Molly. "A girl! Finally, a girl!" Molly collapsed back onto the bed at St. Mungo's. This labor had been the longest, at nearly eighteen hours. She vaguely heard Arthur proclaiming their daughter Ginevra Molly Weasley.

"Mrs. Weasley, here is your Pepperup Potion." Molly drank to potion in one gulp and soon felt right as rain. Ginevra, soon nicknamed Ginny, was placed in her arms to allow her to breast feed. The healers and mediwitches left the three of them alone.

Arthur, Molly, and Ginny shared a peaceful afternoon as they waited through the customary five hours to make sure there would be no immediate complications. When Molly was pronounced "fit as a fiddle" she dressed and prepared to leave. Just before they reached the door, Albus Dumbledore walked in.

"Ah, Molly, Arthur, good, you have not left yet."

"Albus, this is a pleasant surprise. You do us a great honor," gushed Molly, who had always been somewhat in awe of the great wizard.

"Ah, well, your daughter here is very special."

"Yes, she is. She's the first female born into the Weasley family in eight generations," said Arthur, proudly.

"Well, yes, that is rather special. However, I meant she has a special part to play in the future of the wizarding world."

"Our little Ginny?" questioned Arthur.

"One and the same."

"What is she destined for? And how do you know this?"

"She is to be the future Mrs. Potter."

"Albus, James Potter is far too old for our daughter. Besides, he's married and has a child of his own."

"Arthur, don't be silly. I mean for her to marry Harry Potter, of course. James' unfortunate decision to marry a Muggleborn was made without my input, however, I believe Harry will make an excellent spouse for your daughter."

"But he's going to be Lord Potter, and heir of Gryffindor!"

"Yes, indeed. He will also wield a mighty fortune, which is all the more reason for him to marry a respectable Pureblood witch. Your families have been so loyal to me, and you have, so conveniently just given birth to a daughter."

"But, how can you be so sure they'll be married?"

"You needn't worry on that account, I have my ways." Without another word, Albus Dumbledore turned and left the two stunned Weasleys.

November 1, 1981

"Arthur! Have you heard? I'm sure you've heard; it's everywhere. Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived! He defeated Voldemort. He's a Lord of two great families, and he's rich, and he'll be famous, and he's to be our daughter's husband!"

"Yes, Molly, I know. I wonder where he is to live." As if on cue, the fireplace flared green and Dumbledore stepped out.

"I have sent Harry to live with his last remaining relatives. I wish him to grow up humble and willing, something I do not think will happen if he is raised by a wizarding family that dotes on him. I did briefly consider having you raise him, but I worried that he would consider Ginevra as more of a sister."

"Yes, that would be troublesome."

"As I am sure you know, for the first year of life, a magical child is susceptible to appearance altering potions. If given in correct doses, it will change the child's appearance forever." Molly nodded. She was something of a Potions prodigy. "Excellent. It is, of course, far too soon to predict what Ginevra's adult form will be; however, there are two things that must be ensured. Her hair must grow to be, and remain at, waist length. It will need to be healthy and glowing. Also, her hair is rather too bright; you'll need to give her potions to make it darker."

"You want her hair to be like Lily's."

"Yes, you catch on quickly, Arthur. Already Harry bears a remarkable likeness to James. Just think, when they are older, they will remind everyone of Lily and James and be a beacon of hope to the world."

"Very well, Albus, I'll start the potions right away."

"Excellent. I also came to notify you that I have been made Harry's magical guardian. As such, I would like to create a betrothal contract between my ward and your daughter. I trust that would be acceptable?"

"Yes, of course, Albus. What are the terms?"

Albus smiled. He knew Molly was brilliant in her own way. "Well, I believe, that, as the only Weasley girl, Miss Ginevera is rather special. I believe a bride price of 20,000 Galleons should be sufficient to convince her parents to allow a contract to be drawn. Then, as the future Lord Potter's betrothed, she must be raised properly. Shall we say 2,000 Galleons a year for instruction and clothing? And, of course, Lord Potter will pay for his betrothed to attend Hogwarts, as well as all necessary supplies. Have I forgotten anything?"

Molly and Arthur shook their heads. This was far more than they expected. "No, I believe that will be sufficient."

"Excellent, I will have the contract drawn up and owl it to you to sign before the week is out. I'll just be going. Have a wonderful day."

December 25, 1983

"Mum, why does Ginny get so many presents? She got more presents than us last year, too."

"Ginny will be Lady Potter-Gryffindor one day. Some of these are compliments of her future husband."

"Mummy, I mawwy Hawwy Pottew?"

"Yes, Ginny, you will marry Lord Potter. You are his betrothed, which means that when you are both old enough, you will get married. That makes you very special, which is why you get so many presents."

"Yaaaaay! Me like, Hawwy."

"Yes, Harry is a wonderful young wizard. He will be a wonderful husband to you." Molly watched her family fondly as Ginny tore into her gifts. She was only two, but she was very bright, and was very happy with the toys her future husband had "sent" her.

August 11, 1984

"Happy Birthday again, Ginny!" The entire family wished Ginny a happy birthday one last time before she went up to bed.

"Thanks, Mummy, Daddy. Thanks Bill, Chawlie, Pewcy, Fwed, Geowge, Won. Good-nigh'." Molly took her by the hand and led her upstairs.

"Mummy," Ginny said once she was tucked in to bed. "Will you tell me the story of Hawwy Pottew again?"

"Of course, dearest. Once upon a time, not very long ago, there lived the Potter family. There was the mummy, Lily, the daddy, James, and the baby…"

"Hawwy!" interrupted little Ginny.

Molly smiled indulgently. "Yes, that's right. The Potter family was very rich and powerful, both because the Potter line could be traced back many generations and because they were also the last living descendants of Godric Gryffindor. Because of this power, the evil wizard, You-Know-Who, decided they should die. So, on Halloween night, You-Know-Who visited the Potter house to kill them all. But little Harry surprised You-Know-Who. He was more powerful than anyone knew. He was able to survive the killing curse, and rebounded it onto You-Know-Who, ending his reign of terror. Because of this, Harry Potter is known as The Boy-Who-Lived. He is famous, and very powerful, and, many say, very handsome."

"And he's going to mawwy me!"

"That's right, Ginny. At sixteen you will be formally engaged to him, and, at seventeen, you will be the special girl he marries. He belongs with you." Ginny snuggled down into her bed, smiling contentedly. She was special. She would get to marry the great Harry Potter.

"Good night, Ginny."

"Good night, Mummy."

August 11, 1987

"Happy 6th Birthday, Ginny!"

"Thanks, Mummy. And thanks for letting me invite some friends."

"Of course, dearest. Now, let's go open your presents." They did so, and Ginny was happy to receive so many wonderful gifts. Her favorite, however, was a new book about Harry Potter's family.

"Thanks, Daddy!"

"You're welcome, dear."

"Ugh, you're so obsessed with Harry," said Meyla, a distant Weasley cousin.

"Well, I AM going to marry him someday."

"Sure you are," said Meyla, rolling her eyes. Ginny saw her mother shake her head slightly and decided to keep her mouth shut, for now. _She_ knew that one day she would be Mrs. Ginevra Molly Potter, and that's all that mattered.

When her friends had left, Molly brought out one more present. "Ginny, Harry sent you a gift, too. I just didn't want to make a scene in front of your friends."

"Mummy, why can't my friends know that I'm going to be married to Harry?" she asked as she accepted the gift from her mother.

"I don't want you to have to face the fame you would have if people knew, Ginny. No one would ever leave you alone. They would always be following you and taking your picture. I know it may sound nice, but it's not, trust me."

"I understand, Mummy." Ginny finished unwrapping her gift and squealed with delight. She had unwrapped a brand new training broom. Her brothers both played Quidditch, although only Charlie was on a house team, and she had wanted to try for years. "Oh, Mummy! Is there any way to thank Harry personally?"

"Not now, unfortunately, Ginny. Headmaster Dumbledore wants Harry's home to remain a secret so no one tries to harm him. He still has many enemies. I'll ask Headmaster Dumbledore if he'll pass along your thanks, though. Now, I think it's bed time, dearest."

"Ok, Mummy." Ginny went up to her room and sat for quite a while staring at her poster of Harry Potter. The picture had been shot by a magazine editor earlier in the year as Harry went to church with his family. She thought he was rather cute, and he was so nice to send her a broom. She wondered how he knew what she wanted. As she finally lay down in bed to go to sleep, she wished her sixteenth birthday would come faster.

May 2, 1988

Molly Weasley could not believe what she was seeing. Her daughter, Ginny Weasley, was playing with a boy from the neighborhood. Even worse, he was a _muggle_ boy.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" shouted Molly in anger. "You come here this minute!"

Ginny, with a scared look on her face, jumped up from the toys she had been playing with and ran to her mother. "W…what's wrong, M…Mummy?" she stammered.

"You're playing with a boy. A BOY! What are you, some kind of scarlet woman? You know you'll be growing up to marry Harry Potter. You can't interact with other boys. Especially ones that aren't magical."

"I'm sorry, Mum." Ginny furiously blinked away tears. She had been having fun. "I didn't know I couldn't play with boys. I play with my brothers."

Molly had a firm grip on Ginny's hand and was dragging her back to the Burrow. "That's because they are you brothers. They will not compromise your reputation at all. You have to be completely pure, not a stain on your reputation at all, or else Harry will not want to marry you. Do you understand me?"

Ginny bowed her head. "Yes, Mummy."

June 15, 1990

"Mummy."

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Could I cut my hair? Luna's cut hers and it looks very nice."

"Ginny, I've already told you, the Potters are known for liking women with long, red hair. There has been a redheaded Mrs. Potter for the last eight generations."

"But I won't be meeting Harry for another two years when Ron brings him home to visit. I'm sure it will grow out by then."

"The answer is NO, Ginevra."

"I'm never allowed to do ANYTHING. I can't be friends with boys, I can't cut my hair, I can't eat as much as I want, I can't play sports, what CAN I do?"

"You, miss high and mighty, can learn to be a proper wife to Harry Potter. I won't have this attitude from you. Do you think Lord Potter-Gryffindor will want a spirited wife? I don't think so. He's going to want a wife who will be a good mother to his children, and always have the house spick and span."

"How do _you_ know what he'll want?"

"Because Dumbledore knows Harry and he's told me."

"Oh. But won't we have house elves?"

"Yes, of course, dear, but you'll still have to oversee the daily running of the house. That's why you need to learn how a house is run. You'll be too busy to do things like play sports. That reminds me, you're plenty old enough to start dance lessons. I've hired you a tutor."

"Dance?"

"Yes, you'll be attending plenty of balls as wife to Lord Potter-Gryffindor, savior of the wizarding world. Just think of how famous you'll be."

"Yes, Mum."

January 8, 1991

"And, one-two-three, and one-two-three, and one-two-three…Excellent, Miss Weasley!" Ginny stopped dancing as her instructor turned off the music. "Well, Miss Weasley, I dare say that you have mastered all of the major dances. Your parents will be very proud of you."

"Does that mean my lessons are over?"

"Indeed it does, I have nothing more to teach you."

"Oh. Well, let me get my Mother so you can tell her the good news." Ginny walked back into the house from the backyard and found her mother in the kitchen. "Mum, my instructor would like to speak with you."

"What did you do, Ginevera? He's never asked to speak to me before." Ginny didn't bother answering her mother, just turned and went back outside.

"Ahh, Mrs. Weasley. You will be happy to hear that Miss Weasley has finished her education. She is now well versed in all of the major dances. I have nothing else to teach her."

Mrs. Weasley's demeanor changed instantly. "Wonderful! That is terrific news. I am sure her progress is a testament to what a wonderful instructor you are." Ginny rolled her eyes. _Of course_ it was the instructor. It had _nothing_ to do with how hard she worked. "Now, I must ask, do you know of any good etiquette instructors. My daughter needs to learn all of the Pureblood customs, and, with running the house, I just haven't the time."

"Yes, of course, Mrs. Weasley. I will owl you my recommendations within the week."

"Thank you, Mr. Slovinot. Thank you again for all of your help."

"Not at all. Miss Weasley, I take my leave of you for the last time." He bowed and Ginny curtseyed. "Mrs. Weasley, I take my leave of you as well. Have a wonderful day." With a quick wave of his wand, the dance floor he had conjured was gone, as was the gramophone. He walked briskly around the house and out the gate before Apparating away.

"Etiquette lessons now, Mum?"

"Yes, Ginny. You must not embarrass your future husband." At those words, Ginny stopped listening to her mother. She would be Mrs. Harry Potter in seven years time. If only she could grow up faster! When she was married she could escape this house and her mother. She dreamily walked back into the house and up to her room, where she stared at the myriad Harry Potter posters she owned, imagining life with her future husband.

August 11, 1991

"Ron."

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you a favor, as a birthday gift."

"Well, I suppose. What do you want?"

"Will you write to me about Harry Potter?"

"Whatever for?"

"Well, seeing as I'll be his wife someday, I'd like to know more about him."

"Oh, well, ok then. As a birthday gift. But don't expect too much. I'm a bloke, I don't know what you girls want to know about."

"That's alright. Just write whatever you think of."

"Ok, Ginny."

"Thanks, Ron."

"You're welcome. And Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Ron."

September 1, 1991

The Weasleys were all running through King's Cross Station. They were a bit late, as they were unused to doing things the Muggle way. Dumbledore, of course, had insisted, as he was certain Harry would need help getting on the platform.

"Now, you all remember your parts to play, right?"

"Yes, Mum. Gred and I will find Harry and help him with his trunk."

"Fred and George will tell me where he is so I can sit with him during the journey."

"And I will assist young Harry with his classes as necessary. It is only proper for him to come to me for help, as I am a Prefect."

"Yes, good, all of you. Oh, we're almost at the platform. Such a way to catch the train, I don't know why we couldn't just Apparate as we're used to. Surely we could have helped him once he was on the platform. Oh well, come along, then." Molly waited a moment until she spotted a young, black-haired boy with an owl. _Ah, there he is. He's rather small, though. And those clothes are ghastly_. "It's PACKED WITH MUGGLES, OF COURSE." Molly raised her voice some so the boy would hear her. She noticed him stare at the family and follow them to the platform.

"Now, what's the platform number?"

"Nine and three-quarters!" exclaimed Ginny, eager to play her part to perfection. "Mum, can't I go…"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right Percy, you go first."

"Percy marched up to the barrier and went through easily while some tourists passed by." Muggles never did notice anything. "Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said her son. She was happy to see them taking her requests so seriously. She wanted her sons' personalities to shine through, so Harry would be interested in them. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you_ tell_ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."'

"Only joking, I am Fred." He ran off through the barrier with George racing after him, after telling him to hurry up.

As expected, Harry walked over to them with his trolley. "Excuse me," he said.

"Hello, dear," said Molly. She was pleased her plan was working so perfectly. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed to her son, hoping to help forge the relationship.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is—the thing is, I don't know how to—"

"How to get onto the platform?" she finished kindly. Harry nodded. Thank goodness Hagrid listened to directions. She had been somewhat worried he would tell the boy how to get to the train. "Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop, and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er—okay." Harry ran through the barrier without a problem.

"Ron, you had best wait a moment. He may be amazed by the sights on the other side, and you don't want to crash into him."

"Mummy, I don't suppose I can talk to him?"

"No, dearest. Remember, he won't know that you're to be married. He needs to fall in love with you on his own."

"But he will?"

"Yes, of course, dearest. Why wouldn't he? Now, Ron, go on through, and we'll follow, so move out of the way quickly."

"Yes, Mum." She followed Ron through the barrier, with Ginny's hand firmly grasped in her own. She didn't want her daughter wandering off. She knew Percy would be changing into his robes, but was surprised when she didn't see the twins anywhere. She hoped they weren't bothering Harry too much.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

She was relieved when she heard the answering, "Coming, Mum." The twins jumped out of the train. "It went perfectly," they whispered.

"Good," she whispered back as she pulled a handkerchief out of her purse. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." Ron tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began trying to get the dirt off."

"_Mum_—gerroff!" She let him wriggle free, deciding it must be a bruise, as it hadn't come off easily.

"Aaaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said George.

"Shut up," said Ron.

Molly began to wonder where her older son was. "Where's Percy?"

"He's coming now." She gazed at her son affectionately as he strode up wearing his Hogwarts robes with the Prefect badge."

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves—"

"Oh, are you a _prefect_, Percy?" said Fred. Molly rolled her eyes; they were taking it a bit far. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George. "Once—"

"Or twice—"

"A minute—"

"All summer—"

"Oh, shut up!" said Percy, obviously trying to keep his temper under control.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" asked George.

"Because he's a _Prefect_. All right, dear, well, have a good term—send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. She knew she would have nothing to worry about with him.

"Now you two," she rounded on the twins. "This year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've—you've blown up a toilet, or…"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

"It's _not_ funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry; ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up!" Ron yelled. Molly rolled her eyes and caught a glimpse of Harry watching them.

The twins must have noticed as well. "Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Molly noticed Harry lean back so he couldn't be seen. "You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?" asked Molly, playing along.

"_Harry Potter!_"

"Oh, Mum, can't I go on the train and see him, Mum, please!"

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there—like lightning." Ginny desperately wished she could go see it. She had dreams about running her hands over that scar.

"Poor dear—no wonder he was alone. I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day of school." Molly didn't understand why they had brought that up.

"All right, keep your hair on." The whistle sounded announcing the train's imminent departure.

"Hurry up!" The three boys clamored onto the train, then stuck their head out the window. Ginny began to cry, imagining her brothers having a wonderful time with her future husband while she was stuck at home.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"_George_!"

"Only joking, Mum." As the train began to move, Molly waved to her sons, but Ginny ran after the train. She started laughing through her tears as she saw Harry leaning against the window watching her. When she could no longer keep up with the train, she fell back and just waved good-bye.

"Good-bye, husband," she whispered.

"Ginny! Come on, time to go home!" Ginny ran back to her mother, involuntary tears falling as she thought of how long she would have to wait before she'd see her future husband again.

October 10, 1991

"Ginny!"

"Yes, Mum?"

"Ginny, please come into the kitchen, we have some things to discuss."

"I'm coming, Mum." Ginny hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she was surprised to see her mother sitting with a large book in front of her. Her mother didn't particularly like to read. Even more surprising, however, was seeing Albus Dumbledore sitting at the head of the table. "Headmaster Dumbledore, it's good to see you."

"It is good to see you as well, Ginevra. You look very well. You are growing up into a fine young witch." Ginny blushed at the compliment and sat down opposite her mother. "Now, I am here to discuss your coming years at Hogwarts. You know, obviously, that you are to be formally engaged to Mr. Potter when he is of age, and you are to marry when you come of age. Naturally, before that time, he must fall in love with you and ask you to marry him." Ginny nodded, she knew this.

"Good, well, as such, I have asked your mother to teach you some spells to help, ah, emphasize, certain aspects of yourself which Harry should find appealing. I understand she also has a spell which will enable you to hear Mr. Potter's thoughts, and thus allow you to alter your behavior to meet his expectations and become even closer to him."

Ginny looked at her mother, confused. She wondered just where this was going. What would she emphasize? "Now, Miss Weasely, as these spells obviously require magic, I have lifted the trace from you. You will also be receiving a wand early, your mother will take you to buy it later today. These are major privileges which I will take away if you do not treat them with the respect they deserve. Do I make myself clear?"

Ginny, eyes sparkling with delight, nodded her head. "Yes, Sir, of course, Sir."

"Good, you are a very good girl, Miss Weasley, I look forward to your joining us all at Hogwarts next year." Dumbledore stood, said good-bye, and left via Floo, leaving an extremely excited Ginny sitting with her mother.

"Mum, do I really get a wand today?"

"Yes, Ginny, we'll leave after lunch. Now, I want you to read over these pages in the Prewett-Weasley Grimoire. Page 1,286 is about the spell to hear thoughts, and pages 2,045-2,057 are on body-altering charms and how to make them permanent. These are all specific to our family, so you are not to share them with anyone, understood?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Good, now, when you're done reading, let me know. I want an accurate summary of the information from you before we go get your wand." Ginny carefully read through the information, blushing as she did so. There were certain grooming charms, charms to alter her bust size, charms to slim her waist, charms to tone her muscles, and the list went on and on. She couldn't believe she would be expected to master, and use, these.

When her mother returned to the kitchen, she summarized the information succinctly, earning her a rare smile. "Good work, Ginny, now, let's eat some lunch and we'll get you that wand." Ginny gobbled down the sandwiches, not caring that she was only allowed two, before following her mother through the Floo.

She stepped out into the Leaky Cauldron, and practically dragged her mother along into Diagon Alley. She knew exactly where the wand shop was, as Ron had pointed it out hopefully when he was here for his supplies. Unfortunately for him, he was given a hand-me-down.

They walked into Ollivander's with purpose. Mr. Ollivander was standing behind the desk, and looked faintly surprised. "Miss Weasley, I didn't expect to see you here for another year. How may I help you?" Mrs. Weasley explained the special circumstances, managing to leave out the reasoning behind them. "Very well, then, Miss Weasley. Which is your wand arm?" He began measuring her, but did not bother explaining the wands, as she had heard his talk several times over the years. After a few measurements, he began pulling boxes, setting them before her as he did so.

Ginny tried the first wand, Ash and Dragon Heartstring, 10 inches. She felt nothing. Yew and Phoenix Feather, 12 inches. Absolutely nothing. Wand after wand after wand, the boxes piled higher. Ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five wands. Ginny began to fear she was too young. But then, she found it. Holly and Unicorn Hair, 8.5 inches. The wand let out a shower of red and gold sparks. Gryffindor colors.

"Well done, Miss Weasley! You have your wand. Allow me to wrap it for you." She gave it back to Mr. Ollivander, although somewhat reluctantly. Her mother paid for the wand and they left for home.

"Ginny," said her mother, as soon as they were both back in the kitchen. "We will be practicing the spells over the next few months, but for now I'd like you to go put your wand away. It's time for dinner and your father will be home soon."

March 8, 1992

"Very good, Ginny. Now, slim your waist again." Ginny had been practicing all of the charms for months. She had mastered all but one, the charm to alter bust size. Her mother had told her it would be dangerous to attempt it on herself as she had not yet hit puberty, so she would be testing it on her mother. Because of this, she must master every other charm first.

She slimmed her waist, then brought it back to natural size before sitting down, exhausted. "Ginny, we'll eat lunch, then I think you're ready for the last charm."

"All right, Mum." She ate lunch slowly, trying to regain her strength. Finally, she could put off the spell work no longer. She stood and faced her mother.

"Now, Ginny, you know the incantation. Let's start with shrinking." Ginny pointed her wand at her mother and said the incantation. She had obviously done it correctly, although perhaps she had put too much power into it as her other was now sporting about an A cup. "Very good, dear, but did you mean to shrink them so much?"

"No, Mum, I must be nervous."

"Well, no worries. Why don't you grow them next?" Ginny did so, returning her mother to her natural size with a quick wave of her wand.

"I think I've got it, Mum. I don't mean to be rude, but I'd rather not focus on your bust all afternoon."

"Understandable, dear, and you've made wonderful progress. Perhaps tomorrow I'll start you on regular coursework, so you'll be ahead."

"Sounds wonderful, Mum, but I'm going to go rest for a little while. I'm knackered."

"Ginny, it's fatigued, not knackered."

"Yes, Mum, I'm sorry. I've fatigued, I believe I will rest a while."

"Much better, dear."

July 1, 1992

Ginny read back through the letters her brothers had sent her throughout the year. Her Harry was just as brave and noble has she had dreamed. He had saved a fellow first year student at the beginning of the year, and had saved the school, and the wizarding world from the return of You-Know-Who at the end of it. He had enjoyed the fudge she had helped make, and appreciated the design of the sweater she had suggested to her mother. He was perfect.

Today, finally, her brother Ron was coming home. She was hoping to get a glimpse of Harry at the station.

"Ginny! It's time to go!" She hurriedly ran down to meet her mother. They were taking a Portkey to the station as they used to do, since Harry would be going home with his relatives. Ginny managed to stay on her feet when they arrived, which was, in itself, something to be proud of.

A few minutes later, the Hogwarts Express pulled up. Ginny watched the different doors carefully, and was rewarded with a glimpse of Harry with Ron, and some other girl.

"There he is, Mum, there he is, look!" Her mother followed her pointing and caught a glimpse of the three children. "Who is that with them?" Ginny whispered.

"That must be Hermione Granger. She's a muggleborn. She'll do for Ron in the future, I supposed. I've heard she's rather smart."

"Oh." The three friends were closer now, and more visible. "Harry Potter!" squealed Ginny. "Look, Mum, I can see—"

"Her mother cut her off before she could say anything stupid. "Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Ginny held her tongue as the three children approached.

"Busy year?" asked Molly.

"Very," said Harry. "Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, it was nothing, dear."

"Ready, are you?" Ginny looked up at the intruder. He was a large man with a large mustache, who looked furious. Ginny couldn't imagine anyone who looked less pleasant. Behind him stood an extremely large boy and a very skinny woman.

"You must be Harry's family!" said Molly.

"In a manner of speaking," said the large man. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." Ginny watched the man angrily as he walked away. She was very tempted to cast a spell or two on him, but didn't want to get in trouble. She was, however, very happy that Harry had hung back.

"See you over the summer, then," he said to Ron and the muggleborn girl.

"Hope you have—er—a good holiday," said the muggleborn girl. Ginny thought that was a rather stupid thing to say, considering how unpleasant the large man looked and acted.

"Oh, I will," said Harry, surprising her. "_They_ don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer." Molly frowned after him as he left, but Ginny thought he was brilliant.

As soon as the muggleborn was out of earshot, Ginny sighed. "Mum, he's wonderful. I can't wait to grow up."

Molly smiled affectionately at her daughter. "He is a good boy. He'll be good for you, Ginny." They all grabbed the Portkey and vanished.

August 4, 1992

Ginny had woken up to her mother's shouting. She knew Fred and George had done something major again. She'd taken her time taking a shower and getting ready, as she wanted to avoid the worst of it. When the smells of breakfast began wafting up to her, she decided she wasn't willing to wait anymore. She went downstairs, but, upon seeing Harry, she gave a small squeal and ran back up the stairs. This definitely called for her prettiest sundress.

As she changed, Ginny briefly wondered if she would be able to seduce Harry during the rest of the holidays. She was hoping she might manage a kiss, but she wasn't sure. She put on the pretty sundress he had sent her for Christmas that year, though why she had received a sundress in the dead of winter, she still wasn't sure.

She headed down to the kitchen, but was disappointed when everyone was already done eating and had gone out to de=gnome the garden. She certainly wouldn't be going outside to be roped into helping. She decided to head back up to her room and see about making her hair shine. That was one of the few charms she had learned that she thought would be really useful.

She had just given it a light glow when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She opened the door to peak out, but when she saw Harry was with her brother, she ducked back into her room.

"Ginny," she heard Ron say as they continued up to the next floor. "You don't know…" She lost track of the conversation as their steps drowned out the words.

September 1, 1992

Ginny was ecstatic. She was finally going to Hogwarts. She would get to see Harry every day. She hadn't done so good with speaking to him while he had been visiting, but that was just because her brothers were ALWAYS around. At school she was sure she'd be able to get him alone. Perhaps she could ask him to tutor her.

She had managed to defend him when they went to Diagon Alley after that idiot Lockhart had dragged him into a picture. Malfoy had even made himself useful by mentioning she was Harry's girlfriend. She wouldn't need to put the thought into Harry's head herself. She was very, very, happy. As she still had about an hour before they would leave, she made sure everything was packed, then double, and triple checked, before sitting down and writing in her new diary.


	9. The Dark Mark Remover

The other day I was going through a South Park marathon on southparkstudios (dot) com, and an ad for the new Proactive dark spot corrector kept playing. Every time I heard Dark Mark, I couldn't help but think of Harry Potter, and this story slowly formed. The evil plot bunny won't leave me alone, so here it is.

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><p>Lucius sits in the Muggle hotel room, hiding from his Master. He'd failed miserably in his attempt to retrieve the prophecy. A mission which, he has to admit to himself, he had no desire to undertake. He had been angered and disappointed when the Dark Lord had returned just over a year ago. He'd had 13 years of freedom, and did not which to relinquish it to grovel at the feet of a madman.<p>

The Muggle hotel he currently inhabits seemed the only place to hide from the Dark Lord. His wife and son are already asleep. His mind, however, is far too busy to allow him rest. In desperation to forget his troubles, he examines the "tele". He has heard the Muggles discussing it over the past week he and his family have hidden within the Muggle world.

After a minute, he discovers the "on" button and presses it. He has difficulty containing his amazement when moving pictures appear where before there had been only black. He can barely believe the Muggles have invented something like this. He thought it far beyond them.

These pictures, however, are very different than the moving pictures which inhabit the wizarding world. The subject of the picture, rather than staying the same, or occasionally having an added subject, changes often, and seems to be dedicated to selling products to viewers. Just as he is about to turn the tele off (after all, he has no desire to purchase Muggle products), a new subject starts, which catches his attention.

"Sun damage, age spots, dark marks!" This last grabs his attention in a way nothing else can at the moment. "They all add up to a less than perfect complexion. But your skin could look so much better! Introduction the new dark spot corrector from Proactive that's designed to help brighten skin tone and lighten dark marks and sun spots to give you beautiful, even-toned skin!"

Lucius stares at the tele, dumbfounded. The subject continues, but he's lost in his thoughts. Could it truly be so simple? Could this product remove his Dark Mark?

* * *

><p>*1 Week Later*<p>

Lucius opens the box excitedly. It took him a few days to figure out how to order the salve which would hopefully relieve him of the blood Dark Mark sullying his arm and forcing him into servitude to the madman known as the Dark Lord. He had requested the "one-day shipping" so eagerly pressed upon him by the person he had spoken to, despite the outrageous cost, as he wanted as little delay as possible. Now, finally, the salve is here.

He carefully lifts the tube from the box and unscrews the cap. He holds his breath as he applies the salve to his Dark Mark. He reads the label on the tube, curious as to how long it needs to stay on his skin.

"Two weeks? It takes to bloody _weeks_ to work!"

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

"Narcissa! Dearest! We are free!"

Narcissa hurries to her husband, startled by his yell. "Lucius, whatever is the matter? What are you on about?"

"Narcissa, my Dark Mark is finally gone! We can join the Order. They will protect us, and we will have no need to serve the Dark Lord, nor fear his control. And I can inform the others about this. More will defect. Without followers, or, at least, with a greatly reduced force, the Dark Lord will truly be defeated!"


	10. The Perks of Veritaserum

**Summary: Hermione wouldn't let Harry face the trial alone. She would research everything she possibly could. So when she finds out about Veritaserum, of course she's going to suggest it. When she learns that anyone can serve as counsel in a hearing, Fudge better watch out.**

* * *

><p>Mr. Weasley stumbled to a halt outside a grimy dark door with an immense iron lock and slumped against the wall, clutching at a stitch in his chest.<p>

"Go on," he panted, pointing his thumb at the door. "Get in there."

Harry nodded, swallowed hard, turned the heavy iron door handle, and stepped inside the courtroom.

He gasped. He couldn't help himself. It was the same courtroom he'd visited in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Hermione entered directly behind him, forcing him to step forward.

In the high benches ahead of him were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry, an ominous silence fell.

A cold female voice rang across the courtroom. "You're late."

"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I didn't know the time had changed."

"That is not the Wizengamot's fault," said the voice. "You were notified of the change. Take your seat."

Harry's gaze dropped to the chair in the center of the room. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked across the stone floor. He sat gingerly on the edge of the chair, feeling rather sick.

He felt, rather than saw Hermione stand just slightly behind the chair.

"This is not an open trial, young lady, you must leave."

Hermione stepped forward. "I will be representing Mr. Potter."

"You are a child," said Fudge contemptuously from the front row.

"Surprisingly, according to the Great Charter of Wizarding England, that doesn't matter. I merely have to offer myself as counsel, which I have done."

Bewildered, Fudge look to Percy, who nodded stiffly with a look of disgust. "Very well, let the record reflect that Mr. Potter will be represented by a child—"

"Objection!" Hermione's voice rang strong throughout the courtroom, and Fudge started at the outburst.

"Excuse me?"

"That statement is derogatory and offensive. The record should reflect my name, not my status."

A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair and a monocle pounded her gavel once. "Sustained." She leaned forward slightly to better see Hermione. "Please state your name for the record, Miss."

"Thank you, your honor. My name is Hermione Jane Granger, counsel to Harry James Potter."

Harry tried to keep himself from grinning as Fudge turned an unflattering shade of purple.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present—finally—let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," came the eager voice of Percy Weasley.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey." He paused to allow Percy to finish writing.

As Fudge opened his mouth to speak once more, Hermione's clear voice rang through the courtroom again.

"Your honor, if I may, I have three questions relevant to the proceedings before we begin witness examination."

"Very well, continue, Miss Granger."

"Thank you. First, I ask that Minister Fudge be required to join my client on the floor, as it is obvious he will be acting as the prosecution for this trial. His remaining among the Wizengamot seems an obvious ploy to intimidate my client, not to mention the illegality of any counsel not being on the main floor."

"You are quite correct, Miss Granger. Minister Fudge, if you wish to continue in your capacity of prosecuting attorney, you must move to the floor."

Fudge sputtered, looking like he was desperately trying to figure out a way around the mandate. After a moment, he adopted a resigned expression and stood, nodding to Percy before walking down to the floor.

Harry caught the angry expression thrown at both he and Hermione before Fudge turned to face the Wizengamot. He suddenly understood why Hermione was determined to have him on the floor. Every action would be analyzed.

"You had other questions, I believe, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, your honor. My second question is why Mr. Potter was not informed through the proper channels that his hearing had been moved both in time and location."

"As I understand it, an owl was sent to Mr. Potter."

"That is true. However, law mandates that all persons involved in a trial or hearing be notified of any changes at least 6 hours in advance to ensure the owl will reach the recipient in plenty of time for travel adjustments to be made. As I understand it, an owl was sent approximately 20 minutes before the new trial time."

"Who sent the owl to Mr. Potter?"

Harry heard a lot of shuffling of feet before Percy Weasley announced, very quietly, "I did."

The old witch fixed her gaze on him. "And when was said owl sent?"

Percy Weasley gulped audibly. "This morning."

"Considering the trial was moved to 8 o'clock this morning, you could not possibly have sent the owl early enough to meet regulations. Why was the owl delayed when the trial was rescheduled nearly a week ago?"

Percy's response was inaudible.

"Speak up, boy!"

"M…Minister Fudge requested it be sent this morning."

The witch's stern gaze was now fixed on Fudge. "Is this so?"

"He…He must have misunderstood my request. I will have words with Mr. Weasley."

The witch nodded. "See that you do. Mr. Potter, you have my apologies that you were not notified in a timely manner."

"Thank you, your honor."

"Miss Granger, I believe that leaves you with one more question?"

"Yes, your honor, however, I suppose it is more of a request. My client would like to testify under Veritaserum."

The gasps that rippled around the room confused Harry. True, he wasn't sure what Veritaserum was, but he trusted Hermione, and was sure she would not steer him in the wrong direction. The horrified look on Fudge's face was also a good indicator that he should go with the idea.

The witch pounded her gavel. "Order in the courtroom!" Slowly the whispers quieted. "Miss Granger, that is a most unusual request. You are aware of precisely what Veritaserum does?"

"Yes, your honor. Considering the lies that have been printed in the Daily Prophet this summer about my client, we are eager to ensure that every person in this room believes him."

"Very well. Mr. Potter, do you agree with your counsel's request to have you testify under Veritaserum? Keep in mind it is the most powerful truth serum known to wizard-kind."

Harry nodded. Truth serum, that was definitely a good idea. "Yes, your honor."

"Very well. We will have a five minute recess to allow an auror to procure a vial of Veritaserum." As she pounded the gavel, everyone started muttering.

"Hermione, you're doing great."

"Thank you, Harry. You're doing pretty well yourself."

"I haven't done anything."

"Precisely. I was worried you'd have trouble maintaining a neutral expression. I wanted it to look as though we had discussed everything. I meant to do that with you this morning, but we didn't get a chance."

"It's ok, Hermione. I trust you."

"Thanks, Harry."

"Besides, I've enjoyed watching you toy with Fudge." Hermione grinned.

A very short time later, the witch pounded her gavel again. "Order in the courtroom." She paused a moment to allow complete silence to descend. "Auror Tonks has returned with the Veritaserum. We shall proceed with the trial. Auror Tonks, please administer the Veritaserum."

Tonks strode forward from where she had apparently been standing at the back of the courtroom. "I hope you know what you're doing, Harry," she whispered. "Open your mouth please, Mr. Potter."

He did as requested. Tonks held a small dropper and carefully administered three drops onto his tongue. He could feel an odd sensation descend upon him, not unlike the Imperious Curse.

"Thank you, Auror Tonks," said the witch. Tonks nodded, and stepped back into the shadows. "We shall start with identifications for the record. Will the accused state his name and date of birth?"

"Harry James Potter. July 31, 1980."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. Counsel for the accused has been identified. Interrogator: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic. Head of Trial: Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and senior member of the Wizengamot. Court Scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."

"Objection!"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"On behalf of my client, I refute the second charge."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Minister Fudge, such outbursts are not welcome in my courtroom." Fudge looked livid. "Miss Granger, on what grounds to you refute the charge?"

"The Muggle in question is my client's cousin, and, therefore, is fully aware of the existence of the magical world. It is, therefore, impossible for Mr. Potter to have violated section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."

Madam Bones seemed to deliberate for a moment. "Mr. Potter, was the Muggle in attendance on the night of August the second your blood relation?"

"Yes."

"And this Muggle is aware of the existence of the magical world?"

"Yes."

"And has been since you received your Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Charge two is dropped."

"Now just one minute!"

"Minister Fudge, I have warned you about outbursts in my courtroom. If you cannot control yourself, I will have you removed and find a different interrogator."

With what appeared to be great difficulty, Fudge spoke. "My apologies, your honor."

"To continue. The revised charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875.

Madam Bones paused a moment, then lifted the paper she was reading from and appeared to read it again. "Mr. Potter, did you produce a fully-fledged Patronus?"

"Yes."

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"I do not understand the question," replied Harry.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?"

"Yes. It is a stag. It is always a stag."

"Always?" boomed Madam Bones. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes."

"And you are fifteen years old?"

"Yes."

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, Professor Lupin taught me in my third year because the Demetors affected me so badly."

"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at him. "A true Patronus at that age…very impressive indeed."

Some of the witches and wizards around her were muttering and nodding. Others, however, were frowning and shaking their heads.

"Objection, your honor. This hearing is not about how impressive the magic was," said Fudge in a testy voice.

"You are correct, Minister Fudge. We must proceed with witness examination."

"Thank you, your honor." Fudge stepped forward so he was standing directly to Harry's right. "Mr. Potter, you received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes." The nature of the question made it difficult for Harry to say anything else while under the influence of the Veritaserum.

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?"

"Yes."

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?" Fudge sounded excited, almost gleeful.

"Objection! Your honor, Minister Fudge is badgering my client."

"I agree with you, Miss Granger. However, seeing as you will have the opportunity to ask any further questions you like in just a moment, I will allow Minister Fudge to continue his questions. Minister Fudge, I _will_ remind you to adjust your tone."

"Very well, your honor. Mr. Potter," he said, in a more neutral tone, "Are you aware that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"I am."

"Very well. As you have all heard, Mr. Potter willfully used magic outside of school in direct violation of paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery." Fudge stepped back into the shadows, looking very sure of himself.

Harry noted that most of the witches and wizards were all shaking their heads and muttering. If he had not been under the influence of Veritaserum, he was certain he would feel angry and worried.

"Miss Granger, you may question your client."

"Thank you, your honor."

"Mr. Potter, in response to Minister Fudge's question, why did you receive an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago?"

"Because a house elf named Dobby used a levitation charm in an attempt to get me expelled from school."

Fudge snorted and muttered something that was sure to be disbelieving under his breath.

"May I remind the court that Mr. Potter is under the influence of Veritaserum and, therefore, cannot lie?" Harry didn't miss Fudge's face draining of color.

"To continue. Mr. Potter, why did you conjure a Patronus on the night of the second of August?"

"To save my cousin and myself from being kissed by Dementors."

That simple statement caused an uproar. Harry couldn't make out individual voices, but the general tone was one of alarm.

"Order!" boomed Madam Bones.

"Miss Granger, if you agree, I would personally like to ask a few clarifying questions of Mr. Potter."

"As long as I may object if the questions veer from the matter at hand."

"You may."

"Then by all means, your honor."

"You mentioned Dementors, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, your honor. There were two."

"You said you were attempting to save yourself and your cousin from being kissed?"

"Yes, your honor. When I conjured my Patronus, one of the Dementors was reaching for me. Once it had been chased away, I urged my Patronus to attack the other Dementor, it was crouching over my cousin trying to pry his hands from his face, which it was inches away from."

"That is serious, indeed. Very well, Mr. Potter, I have no further questions for you. Miss Granger, you may continue."

"Thank you, your honor. However, I have no further questions for my client. I believe we have proven, beyond doubt, that Mr. Potter's conjuring of a Patronus falls under clause seven of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery which allows underage witches and wizards to use magic in exceptional circumstances."

Harry chanced a glance at Fudge and thought he looked as though he might explode. He was suddenly thankful he was under the influence of Veritaserum, as otherwise he might have smirked.

"Very well, I believe we have heard all that we need to in this matter. Those in favor of clearing the accused of his charge?" said Madam Bones. Harry looked up. There were hands in the air, many of them…almost all! He didn't even bother to count.

"And those in favor of conviction?" There were a few hands, including a toad-like witch in the front row. Harry didn't understand how they could possibly believe him guilty.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, you are hereby cleared of the charge of performing underage magic. In light of evidence presented today, I also declare your record clear of both this charge and the warning sent to you in July of 1992. Auror Tonks will administer the antidote to Veritaserum, and then you are free to go." The pounding of her gavel rang through the courtroom.

Harry waited to receive the antidote, then stood, grinning. "Thanks, Hermione. You were amazing." He had to practically yell to be heard over the murmuring and Fudge's ranting about previous acts of magic, including when he had blown up Vernon's sister.

"Miss Granger, that was quite impressive." Harry turned to face Dumbledore, who was standing behind him. He hadn't even known he was present.

Hermione blushed. "Thank you, Headmaster."

Harry opened his mouth to say hello, but Dumbledore beat him to it. "I will see you both on the first of September. Enjoy the rest of your summer."

And without looking once at Harry, he swept from the dungeon.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Another plot bunny that just wouldn't leave me alone.** **I always wondered why no one suggested the use of a Pensieve or Veritaserum. Originally, I'd planned to keep the original story, but add one of those, but as I wrote, Hermione worked her way into it, and this developed. I really like it though.**


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